Harry naturally didn't dwell on that particular memory. He crept quietly back into the Gryffindor common room, intending to get a good night's sleep.
The next morning, it was Potions class once again.
This time, however, Harry finally understood why Professor Snape treated Gryffindor students so harshly. His feelings toward Snape were now complicated, to say the least.
At least on that night… he had come.
Hmm… Who was the other person? The one who kept calling out "Dad"?
Harry rubbed his eyes, completely unaware that Professor Snape was in the middle of calling roll.
"Potter!" Snape narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with displeasure. "Do you think stopping Quirrell's scheme makes you special? Gryffindor will lose two points for your inattention!"
Harry simply looked up and smiled at Snape. That smile cost Gryffindor another three points.
The reason? Arrogance.
"Merlin, he really is…"
After class, back in the Gryffindor common room, Ron and Harry were complaining about Snape.
"I think he just has it out for you…" Ron said.
"Well, he does dislike me," Harry shrugged. "Because I look exactly like my father. Practically a carbon copy, except for the eyes."
"Why, though?" Hermione asked, confused. "Didn't you say your parents and Professor Snape were good friends? Why are you talking about him like this now?"
It was dinnertime. Seamus and Neville weren't around, so only the three of them were relaxing in the common room.
Harry saw no reason to hide anything and told them about his father's past behavior.
"Merlin's beard…" Hermione's mouth fell open. "Now I understand why Professor Snape hates Gryffindor so much. Honestly, if I were in his position, I'd probably hold a grudge against the entire house too…"
"Just like how you dislike Slytherin?" Harry glanced at her.
Hermione didn't reply, which was as good as admitting it.
Ron didn't know what to say either. After thinking for a long while, he blurted out something rather tactless: "So what are you going to do? Are you going to apologize to him?"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Oh, come on, Ron. Am I supposed to walk up to Professor Snape and say, 'Sorry, Professor, that my dad hung you upside down and that my mum — along with the rest of the class — saw your dirty, black underwear that hadn't been washed in ages'? Mate, would that be an apology or provocation?"
"I have no doubt that if you said that, Gryffindor would lose ten thousand points," Ron swallowed hard.
At noon, Harry had gone into the Forbidden Forest but couldn't find Pabi anywhere. When he returned, Hermione told him that she had been the one who informed Pabi about Harry fainting.
Hermione had originally planned to feed her, but Pabi said she would come back to the edge of the forest next week to see Harry.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had been worried something had happened to her.
Once morning classes ended, it was time for the end-of-term exams.
Students were not allowed to bring their own quills or parchment. Professors personally distributed specially enchanted anti-cheating exam materials.
In addition to written tests, there were practical examinations.
For Charms, tiny Professor Flitwick had students enter the classroom one by one to make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk.
Harry got really into it. Not only did he make the pineapple dance, but he made it follow the exact rhythm of the record Professor Flitwick had playing.
Transfiguration was even more hands-on. Professor McGonagall had everyone turn a mouse into a snuffbox. The more elegant the box, the higher the score. Any leftover whiskers meant point deductions.
During the Potions exam, students desperately tried to recall the exact instructions for the Forgetfulness Potion. Snape loomed behind them, watching closely. They could practically feel his breath on the back of their necks, which made everyone extremely nervous.
Of course they were nervous — who wouldn't be with a great, greasy, bat-like figure hovering right behind them? Especially Harry, who felt like Snape was glued to him like a shadow the entire time.
Finally, they reached the last exam.
The weather was unbearably hot. The classrooms felt even stuffier than outside, and the subject — History of Magic — only made the restlessness worse.
Harry and Hermione scribbled away at their parchments. To everyone's surprise, Ron — who had never shown much interest in History of Magic and was usually a terrible slacker — was writing furiously, his quill flying across the page.
He even handed in his exam with a cheerful grin.
The reason was simple: the exam was all about the goblin rebellions.
After spending so much time with Harry, Hermione, and Pabi, and listening to countless stories, even someone as dense as Ron had absorbed Pabi's tales. Especially since the protagonist was Harry Potter — a boy who shared the same name as his best friend.
Thanks to his fondness for Harry, Ron had unexpectedly put in a lot of effort into History of Magic.
Lying on the grass by the edge of the Black Lake, Ron took a deep, happy breath and kicked his arms and legs like he was swimming.
"Ah, it feels so good. No more studying!"
"Yeah, it really does," an ethereal voice replied from beside them.
"Pabi!" Ron cheered.
Harry sat up and looked in her direction.
"Uh… what are you doing?" he asked, a black line forming on his face as he watched Pabi grazing on the grass.
"Hermione said unicorns should eat grass," Pabi replied cheerfully while chewing.
Hermione blushed. "Sorry, Miss Pabi, I didn't mean it like that…"
"Oh, it's fine! This is what I've been eating in the Forbidden Forest for years anyway. Haha!" Pabi hopped around happily, then nuzzled into Harry's arms. "Harry, I heard you fainted? Did you really faint?"
"It wasn't anything serious, Pabi." Harry reached out and gently rubbed her head. "But I can remove the curse on your wound now."
He pulled out his wand, pointed it at the wound that was still seeping blood, and cast the counter-curse.
Perhaps thanks to the surging magic of the Philosopher's Stone, the spell worked perfectly. Pabi's wound healed instantly.
"You did it!" Hermione cheered. She hated seeing anyone in pain — even if that someone was a unicorn.
"Yay!" Pabi bounced around joyfully. She bent her front legs and said, "Harry, Harry, get on —"
"Huh?" Harry blinked.
"Come on, get on! I'll take you for a ride!" Pabi said excitedly.
After a moment's thought, Harry climbed onto Pabi's back. Under the extremely envious gazes of Hermione and Ron, he waved at them.
"I'll be back soon!"
Riding a unicorn was far smoother than Harry had imagined. He wrapped his arms around Pabi's neck and said softly, "Pabi, I found Vivi."
"Eh?" Pabi stopped. "Where? Where?"
"In the Map Chamber," he answered concisely.
"Oh, the Map Chamber…" Pabi sounded a little disappointed. "The Vivi there is just a portrait. I thought you had brought her back…"
"But we have a lead now, don't we?" Harry smiled. "She even gave me the key to a vault. There are materials inside that can be used to summon her. Oh, right — we're still missing something called a 'basilisk fang.' You're the magical creatures expert. Do you know where I can find a basilisk?"
"Basilisk?" Pabi shook her head. "I heard the Ministry once confiscated a young one, but it was destroyed. If Cassandra were still around, her family's collection might have had parts from a basilisk. Maybe… you could ask her descendants?"
The mention of Cassandra immediately made Harry think of Draco's notebook. He made up his mind — when he got back, he would find Draco and get to the bottom of what that notebook really was.
"Speaking of Cassandra…" Pabi whistled. "Do you remember fourth year? When you two had that big fight? I think she mentioned back then that her family had a huge collection of magical creature specimens."
"Ah." Harry had a vague recollection.
He wasn't sure what the fight had been about, but Cassandra had been angry with him for a long time afterward.
At the time, Harry had thought he would be glad. After all, that annoying, arrogant, insufferable Cassandra had finally given up on making him her lackey.
Instead, he was dismayed to discover that something important felt missing from his daily life.
That day, Harry had stayed in the crypt, practicing spells relentlessly to forget that feeling.
"Wow!" Pabi exclaimed when she saw him furiously dismantling a training dummy. "You're really going at it!"
The Hufflepuff girl smiled sweetly, like warm sunshine in winter, capable of chasing away the cold loneliness in people's hearts.
"Don't distract me. I'm practicing spell combinations. Go over there," Harry waved her away impatiently.
"Oh!" Pabi looked enlightened. She walked behind him with light, nimble steps, then popped her head cutely over his left shoulder. "You got dumped! Cassandra dumped you!"
"I did not!" Harry retorted instinctively. "I wasn't dumped…"
"Then you dumped her—" Pabi hopped to his right side and popped up again. "Hehe, so what does it feel like to dump a rich young lady?"
Harry irritably fired a spell at the dummy.
"Confringo!"
"It's not what you think!" Harry said helplessly.
"Heehee. Then while I'm still here, go ahead and cry on my shoulder," Pabi bent down, one hand on her knee, and patted her shoulder. "Here, shoulder available!"
"Why would I cry?!" Harry asked.
"It's Christmas, Harry! Christmas! Everyone in your dorm has gone home, right?" Pabi straightened up, hands behind her back, and tilted her head. "When you go back to an empty dorm and realize you're all alone, crying under the covers will feel even more pathetic."
Harry set down his wand and rolled his eyes.
"Even if I jumped off the Astronomy Tower, I absolutely would *not* cry!"
"You can talk to me, you know. Cassandra isn't really what you think she is…" Pabi said gently, hugging herself with both arms while looking at him with bright, sparkling eyes.
"I'd rather talk to Sir Nicholas or the Bloody Baron about my feelings," Harry replied, swinging his wand again to strike the dummy.
Pabi puffed out her cheeks and kicked her legs aimlessly. "Hmph! I came here with good intentions to comfort you! You don't appreciate it, and you'd rather talk to the Bloody Baron than me!"
"Yes!" With no girls in his heart, Harry's spells flowed like magic.
He seemed to imagine the dummy as Cassandra as he continued practicing spell combinations.
Seeing that Harry was ignoring her, Pabi swayed side to side, then her eyes lit up mischievously. "Hey, Harry…"
"Leviosa!" "Accio!" "Depulso!"
Harry kept practicing the spell sequence, trying to forget the unpleasantness with Cassandra.
He was running away from it.
"Roar?" Pabi put on a sly little fox smile. She pulled out her wand, pressed it to her throat to amplify her voice, stood on tiptoe behind Harry, and spoke over his shoulder:
"Practicing spells so hard, training so desperately… It looks like our poor little Harry is trying to cover up the pain of a broken heart~"
"When will this shattered heart be able to love again? When will the pain of abandonment finally fade? Only by turning this grief and anger into strength and releasing it…"
At this point, Pabi hopped onto a chair and shouted energetically:
"Use spells to vent your pain!"
Harry lowered his wand.
"Oh? Is little Harry exhausted? Has he finally realized he wants to go have a proper talk with Cassandra…?"
Pabi placed one hand over her heart and stretched the other forward, as if dramatically reciting a Shakespearean sonnet.
Harry turned to look at her.
Feeling his gaze, Pabi suddenly looked guilty and stopped. She lost her balance, flailed for a moment, and started to fall.
"Leviosa!"
Harry's spell caught her in mid-air, saving her from landing hard on her backside.
"Thank you, Harry—" Pabi grinned sheepishly.
Harry couldn't help but laugh. It was in that moment of laughter that he finally understood the girl's kind intentions.
"I should be the one thanking you, Pabi," Harry said with a gentle smile. "Thank you. I feel much better now."
Later on, it was also Pabi's comforting words that helped him realize where the real problem lay.
"I remember," Harry said softly, stroking Pabi's neck. "If it weren't for you, Cassandra and I might never have become friends…"
"Haha…" Pabi lifted her head. "Even if you hadn't gone to find her, she probably would have come back to you eventually, all haughty, saying something like, 'Potter, how dare a little lackey like you talk back to me?' Right?"
"You really do know her well," Harry sighed.
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